


curses & curls

by knifechurch



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Haircuts, Insecurity, Kenny's Immortality, Light Angst, M/M, Married Couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23743570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifechurch/pseuds/knifechurch
Summary: Every time, each morning like this, he fears he will roll over and find the other side of their bed empty. And his Kenny will be gone for good. No more of his infectious laughter, no more gentle kisses on his forehead, no more of his hand squeezing Kyle’s when he’s teetering on the edge, no more of that cinnamon-y cologne Kyle told him not to buy.But every time, Kenny’s laying right next to him, fast asleep.
Relationships: Kyle Broflovski/Kenny McCormick
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	curses & curls

Kyle wakes up with a horrible, sinking feeling of dread in his chest, and he knows Kenny died.

He doesn’t know how, or when. Yesterday, of course. But he feels the familiar trembling of his hands, the empty feeling in his arms, the tears dried on his cheeks from crying himself to sleep. He always has those. No matter how many times Kenny dies, even if Kyle knows he’s going to be back, he apparently cries so hard the tears are left over the next day - tears from something he can’t even remember. He hasn’t woken up like this in months.

He rolls over.

Every time, each morning like this, he fears he will roll over and find the other side of their bed empty. And his Kenny will be gone for good. No more of his infectious laughter, no more gentle kisses on his forehead, no more of his hand squeezing Kyle’s when he’s teetering on the edge, no more of that cinnamon-y cologne Kyle told him not to buy.

But every time, Kenny’s laying right next to him, fast asleep. Kyle counts his breaths, trying to match them. He doesn’t want to touch him in fear of waking him; or perhaps fear that touching him will break the illusion, and his Kenny will be gone.

Kenny’s turned on his side, facing Kyle. His hair isn’t pulled back, and fans against the pillow. Each time he breathes differently, Kyle’s heart skips a beat. He wrinkles his nose in his sleep, apparently dreaming, and balls up the sheet in his hand. Kyle lays his hand over his, and notices how much paler his skin is than Kenny’s.

Kenny opens his eyes with a start. They’re a brilliant violet for a moment, but then he blinks, and they return to their warm shade of brown. 

“No, no, go back to sleep,” Kyle whispers, squeezing his hand. He shouldn’t have touched him; he’s a light sleeper.

“Too late,” Kenny chuckles, and it makes Kyle’s heart swell more. He turns their hands over to entwine their fingers. “G’morning, firefly.”

“You died,” He squeezes his hand. “Right?”

Kenny’s smile falls. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You died!”

“And you cried,” Kenny points out. “I made you cry.”

“Your dying made me cry, dumbass. Not you.”

Kenny looks away. “You don’t remember, right?” 

“No,” Kyle admits. 

“Good.”

“Not good!” Kyle cringes at the whine in his voice. 

“Really, it is. You don’t understand, Ky.”

“I want to. I want to understand,” He hisses, holding Kenny’s hand against his chest. “I hate that you have to go through this alone, Ken.”

Kenny pulls him to him, holding him against his chest. Kyle lets himself go limp, pressing his face into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the leftover traces of that stupid cologne, and the clean smell of soap underneath. Like always, the smell immediately calms him down, at least a little.

“I don’t,” Kenny mumbles into the top of his head. “I’m never alone if I have you.”

Kyle sighs, and they’re quiet for a moment besides their breathing. They sync up, locked into each other perfectly, like either one’s trying to pull in the other.

Kenny snakes a hand up Kyle’s back, running it through his hair, curling a ringlet around his finger and letting it bounce back into place. 

“I need a haircut,” Kyle grumbles, face hot.

“Hell no,” Kenny kisses the top of his head. “You should grow it out, if anything.”

“I want a haircut,” He repeats, feeling his chest clench. “Please.”

Kenny seems to stiffen, then sighs. “Are you sure? Right now?”

Kyle nods, face still in his husband’s shoulder.

“Should I carry you?”

“Sure, okay.” He would probably be embarrassed by wanting that any other time, but standing means not touching Kenny for a moment, and he can’t do that.

Kenny shifts, pulling away a little to slip his arms under Kyle’s knees. Kyle wraps his arms around his shoulders, and they both grunt as he lifts him, curled around him like a child.

“You’re heavy, babe.”

“You offered.” He sets his head on one of his arms.

It’s a short walk to the bathroom, anyway, and Kenny sits him graciously on the counter in front of the sink. Kyle twists around to pull the electric razor out of the medicine cabinet, handing it to Kenny.

He runs his finger over the ON button, not pressing it. “Are you sure we need to shave it right now, hon? You could go to Great Clips or something when it opens.”

“It needs to come off. Right now.”

“All of it?”

Kyle considers it, lifting a hand to touch the side of his head. “....No, not all. Just the sides. And the back. I think that’ll be fine.”

Kenny frowns but nods. “If you really want it.”

He does.

He likes letting Kenny do his hair; he’s not half bad at it, and he always puts a hand under his chin and gently pivots his head as he needs it, which feels nice. There’s no talking, just the gentle buzz of the razor. It makes him feel secure to give up the control he’s always vying for, if only for him.

When Kenny’s done, he steps back to admire his work. “I guess it’s not so bad. You’re still a knockout.”

Kyle reaches back into the sink, picking up a handful of his shorn, bright red curls and holding them to the light before tossing them into the trash. “Thank you. I feel...lighter.”

“Anytime, hot stuff.”

Kyle throws his arms around Kenny’s neck and pulls him closer. When they kiss, it’s gentle and slow, like they’re drinking each other in.

“Can we go back to bed now?”

“Yeah.”

Kenny grins.

“After you help me clean up all this hair.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is an oldie from September 2019, but I wanted to post it because I really...love them?
> 
> Thanks to Oswald and Shell for beta reading!
> 
> Contact me at mystewion on instagram, or knifechvrch on tumblr! I love making friends :)


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